Tuesday, May 10, 2011

Something a little different

So I haven't written anything fictional in a very long time, but today whilst I was having a very colourful Skype conversation I began doodling on my notepad and before I knew it, I'd doodled up the makings of a fantastic (yet somewhat insane) story. So from now on (when I can be bothered) I will be writing these short snippets of fiction because well, 1) I can and 2) change is good. Now hold onto your butts, because you're about to read the first part of what could be the most amazing story ever.

It was a beautiful day in the city of Crablantis. Dropping his suitcase by his feet, Signor Crabbsly remarked on the stillness of the kelp and the gentle sounds of Dolphins in the distance. Although the city was surely beautiful, it didn’t mean Crabbsly wanted to be there. Who would want to leave behind what he did? Who would willingly lose what he did to be here? Who would-

---

“Ahem, excuse me Miss Narrator Lady”

Yes?

“I don’t think this story is titled “Crabbsly’s Past,”

How do you know? You’re just a crab.

“Be that as it may, but I’m a crab that can plainly see the title right there. ‘Operation Caviar’. Now shouldn’t you get back to talking about the actual story?”

...Fine. But just so you know, next week it’s going to be all about your past. And you’ll have NO IDEA WHAT’S COMING.

“Pretty sure you just told me what was coming right then.”

Shutup Crabbsly.

---

Begrudgingly Crabbsly opened the door to his new abode. For copyright reasons I cannot say it was shaped like a giant pineapple, but well... it was shaped very similarly to a spiky fruit that closely resembles a pineapple in every single way.

Kicking his suitcase into a corner, Crabbsly surveyed his new house. It was drab, it was mundane, but it held everything Crabbsly needed to fulfil his mission, and that was all that mattered right now. That was all that could matter, for if Crabbsly fell victim to distraction the whole operation would fail.

Before he could even begin unpacking his belongings there were eight knocks on his door.

“Yo bitch open yo damn door before I pop eight caps in yo crabby ass”

---

“Um, Narrator Lady? Don’t you think that’s a little bit racist? I mean, do you really want to annoy this guy?”

Why would I be worried about annoying him?

“Because he sounds dangerous”

Who’s racist now, huh Crab? Now grow some balls and get the door.

“I really don’t think that my anatomy includes these things you call ba-“

JUST ANSWER THE DOOR SO THE STORY CAN CONTINUE. Oh my god. You are the worst protagonist ever!

“Cripes. Sorry. Looks like a certain narrator is riding the crimson wave”

And then a bomb was dropped on Crabbsly’s house and he died. The end.

“OK, ok, I’m sorry. I’ll answer the door”

That’s what I thought. Freakin’ crab.

---

Crabbsly gingerly opened the door and gasped when he took in what he was seeing.

Floating before him was an Octopus, but no ordinary Octopus, oh no. This one had eight legs like any other, but under his translucent skin Crabbsly distinctly saw wires and electrodes instead of organs. On each of the Octopus’s legs were gold rings and bracelets, and adorning his neck was a heavy gold chain with an iceberg hanging from it. Behind him was a slab of dry wall, where it seemed the Octopus was plugged into a powerpoint.

“Yo, you Signor Crabbsten?”

“Crabbsly”

“Whatever Crabbington, just let me in. I’ve been waiting for you to get here for hours. Where the hell yo orange self been?”

“Well Turtle Trail Transport only runs so fast”

“Yeah yeah I don’t care. Listen, we’ve gotta get this operation under way you dig? That vault won’t stay closed for long, if those CLAMs have anything to do with it. It’s up to us as KELP to keep this thing from blowing open.”

“Er...what?”

“Yo dog, you weren’t even briefed before you came here? The hell those KELP offices do over in Aquarius City?”

---

Oi, Crabbsly You were so briefed on your mission before you came, remember? I spoke about it up there somewhere. About how important it is that you don’t get distracted. Remember?

“Well yes, but why is he talking in acronyms? Shouldn’t that be explained? By you? In the storyline? About three paragraphs ago?”

Probably. But it wasn’t. What’s your point?

“Just because we know what’s going on, doesn’t mean the readers do.”

You honestly think people are still reading this?

“Can you please just explain what’s going on so that I can go relax? Geez. Being in a story with you is like putting myself through the wringer. For a job”

Don’t you make me blow your house up again

“Uh, yo bitches? I don’t mean to be rude but can we get on with this? I have a date with a fine piece of tail in an hour”

Oh, sorry Octopus. Ok, so basically CLAM = Corrupting Lives of All Mermaids. They’re the bad guys, and word has it they have some big evil plan. Crabbsly is here as a KELP agent (Kongregation and Encouragement of the Livelihood of Pscises) to put an end to whatever dastardly deeds they’re up to.

---

“What’s our first step?”

“Word on the sand has it that there’s a CLAM informant working undercover at the local strip joint; The Coral Queef. Go there for a couple of nights and find out what you can. I won’t be speaking to you until you’ve found out that information. Don’t wanna arouse suspicion or some shit, yo.”

The Octopus picked up his dry wall and made his way toward the door.

“Oh wait! Mr Octopus sir, um, you never told me your name”

“They call me Chilleh. Chilleh Puss”

And with that he was gone.

Tune in next week for more adventures of Crablantis. What will Signor Crabbsly find at The Coral Queef? Will he pick up and possibly get a lay, or get accused of being a walking STI? And just what is in that vault that he has to protect? All of those questions and more, next time on Crablantis!

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I used to be a teacher, then decided to write about video games for a living. And now I'm a writer for Hyper magazine and PC Powerplay. +10 to awesome choice making! I also write for The Black Panel AND I'm a tech writer for Pages Digital.Read. Stay. Play